Memory's such a great subject for a novel. It's tricky. Sometimes it's a traitor, either because of what you forget, or because of what you don't forget. Taking statements is a real challenge for the police for that reason, my brother tells me, and so is giving one. I was once asked to pick a face from a mug file, but it wasn't a FACE that I remembered. It was a man's movements and expression as I swore at him and stamped my foot, and he decided to get on his bike (literally) and leave me in peace. Memory's as selective as perception and understanding.